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A/N: Though this is a ASOIAF based work and there is nothing particularly explicit, I should mention this chapter contains allusions to war-related circumstances involving the eating of animals not usually eaten & starvation and also death & murder.
Chapter 8
Though he hears the voice of his mother's uncle, Lomas, from behind him, Stannis Baratheon does not turn around. Both his gaze and the bulk of his attention are trained on the Red Keep. He does not contain his grimace. He has no desire to be here, though he chose to be. He nearly snorts; there had been no choice. Not for him; not this time.
The last time he had a choice he debated choosing between duty to his brother and duty towards his king. He chose his brother, but, that choice turned him into a traitor who starved and allowed his people to starve. He and his people stayed awake for many hungry nights while their enemies surrounded them, feasting and making merry. Now he is in their midst. He does not consider it a choice to be in King's Landing and it matters not how polite a letter sent from a lady could be or how much the bannermen of his brother tell him it is. He can only tell himself being in King's Landing is a duty.
He had been in King's Landing once before. He remembers little of it save the stench of the city and entering the Throne Room with his hand clutched in Robert's. He does not know if the Throne Room remains unchanged, but, the stench of the city is familiar. Such a thing can never be comforting and is not.
He had been young, then. Things had been different. His mother and father had been alive. His still far too thin hands clench at his sides and he closes his eyes as the memory of watching his parent's ship crash assaults him. He knew their deaths was an accident; however, they would not have been on the Windproud had Aerys not demanded they go on that fruitless search for a bride for Prince Rhaegar in Essos.
With one more glance at the Red Keep, he straightens his spine. They are dead. Robert killed Prince Rhaegar. Even King Aerys is dead. The war is over. None of it should matter. He does not believe it, but, his duty to Robert requires that he put all that aside, though Robert is not here, either. His brother is not with him and will not be.
He supposes that was the point. Even before Robert arrived in Storm's End, Maester Cressen handed him two letters from King's Landing; one from Robert and one with the Targaryen seal. If Robert had not written he would have thought the other was a very bad attempt at a jape at his expense, only Robert had written verifying the "invitation" from Elia Martell to sit on the Small Council as Master of Ships had been real. A very confused and despondent Renly had not wanted him to come here. His youngest brother had cried even, but, upon Robert's arrival, Stannis saw the necessity of leaving Storm's End to Robert as was proper. He wondered at the possible reasons why he was "chosen" but, he accepted the charge. That it meant he was to sit on a council presumably led by the boy-king's Dornish mother he never met and the Hand of the King, Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock, who he had no reason to think well of, should make no difference.
He sighs. Then, Tywin Lannister had been sitting on the Iron Throne in place of Aerys. Stannis remembers thinking Lord Tywin had been the king before being told otherwise. Now, the man is near it once more because he gave his aid to the Targaryen cause. When he asked for specifics, Robert, in between the dark looks and clipped words, said the woman sits on the throne with an agreeable Lord Tywin Lannister beside her.
If the men who returned with Robert, all from the Stormlands themselves, are to be believed, and Stannis has no reason to think they were telling lies, few in King's Landing minded this. The twenty years Lord Tywin had been Hand of the King had been very good years, many recalled. Rhaegar's widow gave the family a male heir, who was now, upon the death of his sire and grandsire, a king, even if he was a mere babe. Widows acted in the interest of their too young sons, they shrugged.
From what Stannis gathered from the discussions with their returning bannermen, there was still ambivalence to the situation in King's Landing. He would have been reassured by this; however, he was disappointed in discovering they were more distrustful of Princess Elia's Dornish heritage than they were of Lord Tywin's actions. When he voiced this, both his mother's uncles and some of the others shook their heads at him as though he was a child instead of a man who lived through a war. Robert, for once, it seemed, agreed with him; sneering at Lord Tywin Lannister's ending his self-imposed seclusion only after the fighting was done and the man's behavior towards him and those who joined Robert in battle. However, Robert grumbled about the Targaryen widow just as much, though his grumbling seemed more to do with whose widow the woman was and how he was certain she was the reason he was kept from Lady Stark more than he desired. In the end, it had stopped none of them from accepting the situation or from accepting the guests gifts Elia Martell gave them.
Robert had been just as enthusiastic in telling him about the other members of the council though he had been mollified at Lord Arryn's appointment. Stannis felt differently, but, not enough to reject the "offer". Still, had one of the men on the council been a Tyrell or Redwyne, Stannis would have refused outright; Robert or no Robert; duty or no duty. But, the Master of Coin was a Hightower. He did not like he was expected to work with those his brother and men previously fought and Robert liked it no more than he did. Yet, neither of them could deny what other lords of the Stormlands had said: King Aerys II Targaryen was dead and two seats on the council for the Stormlands was nothing to sniff at. It all unnerved him, but, there was finality in the way Robert recounted the agreements made forcing him not to argue. Robert said he had a choice, but, Stannis knew better.
Their bannermen had been nonplussed upon discovering Robert would not be occupying one of the seats but only a fool could fail to grasp Robert's hatred of King's Landing and the people in it. They had been quick to reassure him that their liege-lord's brother and uncle would just serve just as much, in his stead. It was no ringing endorsement for him, but, Stannis knew of other's preference to Robert for far too long to react to it and give ammunition to their own men. Robert was already angry with him for other reasons.
He clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth clack against one another as he tries to smother thoughts he cannot afford. Robert wants him here; needs him to be here. I am going to the Eyrie…watch Renly for me…betray your duty to your king for me…hold Storm's End for me…be my eyes on the council…be happy for me that I am marrying the woman I love…
Robert always wanted too much from him. But, he chose his brother and his brother acknowledged this new regime, and he would do his duty. No matter how difficult he found it, he was resolved to this the day he boarded a ship with his mother's kinsman to this city to join people who he did not trust and who did not trust him.
He straightens as he sees the unfamiliar man with the not so unfamiliar livery leading the small party moving in his direction. Prince Oberyn Martell of Sunspear is here to greet him. Stannis knew the man was still in the city, but, was not expecting this. Robert said that when he arrived, Elia Martell had been waiting for him with Lord Lannister. Now, neither Regent nor Hand was here, but, the Regent's brother was. Robert had killed her husband and she still met with him. He supposed as just Robert's younger brother, one who fought no battles, entitled him to no such courtesies. Even as he stands more upright, he decides not to broach the subject. As it was, he suspected he was not leaving the city for quite some time, assuming, of course, his brother recalls him for the wedding at all. No need to antagonize the Targaryen loyalists just yet, he wagered. He will likely prove to be a disappointment to them soon enough.
Uncle Lomas stepped out from behind him and approached the other party first. Stannis' jaw clenched more tightly even as Prince Oberyn amiably introduced himself to Uncle Lomas.
Stannis tried not to react when he saw the way the Dornishman grimaced at his black cloak and the pin in the shape of a stag that held it tight against him. The other man greeted him in a tone so formal it could have frozen sea water, "My Lord Stannis of House Baratheon".
Stannis simply delivered his own equally formal greeting.
Now, the Dornishman smiles at them both, in what Stannis thinks is supposed to be, apologetically, "My lords, I welcome you to King's Landing. I beg your indulgence…" The man's tone put paid to the idea that any sort of begging was occurring, not that neither he nor Uncle Lomas was intending on commenting on it. "The Princess Regent wished to receive you herself; however, this morning's audiences have run slightly longer than we anticipated. I hope you can forgive that."
Stannis felt his teeth clack together once more and he was sure the others heard it as he was given what supposedly passed for a polite smile from the Dornishman.
His uncle catches his eye and sends him a look, as if in warning, before looking back to Prince Oberyn. "There is nothing to forgive. It is understandable the Princess would be occupied."
One of the Prince's companions comes forward as Prince Oberyn replies, "I believe the Regent will be in the Throne Room for some time. In the interim, perhaps you, Lord Lomas, would prefer to rest while the Regent finishes her appointments. Ser Myles will escort you to your quarters."
And with a formal bow from a Manwoody of Kingsgrave, Stannis is left alone with a Prince of Dorne.
"Lord Stannis Baratheon". He stiffens at the way the Dornishman sounds out his name once more. "Please follow me."
Even if the expression on his face is devoid of hostility, Stannis does not trust the other man's intentions. Yet, he still follows him. He is already here and he swore to remain. He takes little comfort in knowing that if the Dornish treated him badly, Robert would be forced to act, on principle, at least.
He glanced at the man next to him. He had been told he could meet with his sister after these audiences concluded. Stannis wished for no such thing, but, he would have it done. But, for now he would wait. Nothing untoward has happened, yet, Stannis was less than at ease, given what he observed.
From his position in the gallery of the Throne Room, stone-faced, he takes in sight of the Hand of the King. Lord Tywin Lannister looked older, but, otherwise largely unchanged; just as regal; just as severe. Stannis' eyes move to the rather large Master of Coin, Lord Garth Hightower. Once more he looks away quickly before his thoughts can be registered by the silent Dornishman.
His eyes focus on his hands. Like the rest of him, they are thin. All of him is thinner than he had been before the war. He heard often enough, in whispers, of the way he was not handsome like Robert. He also knew what others have said about his dour countenance, his lack of social graces, and his temper. He also heard that time the realm spent at war had not been kind to him and that he had not been kind, in turn.
Looking at those men, in fact, at most of them, below him, only reminds him of the rage and despair which fueled him during the war. The sight of the Lannister lord makes him remember how he had chosen. He is simultaneously affronted and jealous of the man. The Lord of Casterly Rock chose late, but, the man had not chosen treason. Not like him. Holding Storm's End had been just, there is no question of it, and King Aerys Targaryen wanted his brother's head for no other reason than whom he was; yet, whatever Aerys had done, whatever he had become, Aerys had been his king and a man his father had been family to and concerned for.
Just one look at the fat Hightower and his mind easily supplies the sounds feasting and merriment of those men of the Reach surrounding Storm's End. He remembers being trapped in his own home, knowing his brother and others were fighting, while he was unable to do anything about it. He remembers waiting for death amidst sickness and starvation and watching others do the same.
Not even having been pointed out a blue-clad, Lord Arryn decreases the maelstrom of sentiments warring within him. Lord Arryn was Robert's foster-father, not his. Lord Stark was not present, but, Prince Oberyn had said no more to him on the issue of the Starks and Stannis did question him further.
He takes a deep breath and looks down once more shifting his attention to the two members of the Kingsguard standing sentry on either side of the Iron Throne. One was the Lord Commander. The other was Ser Jaime Lannister. Robert disliked both; the younger one because he was Tywin Lannister's son, and the Lord Commander who, it was said, made no secret of his distrust of any man who rebelled. He was certain both saw him though they made no great show of it, even though both had frowned at the sight of him. In the short time he had been here, they were not the only ones to do so; yet, he wonders what that means for him. He dislikes the thought.
His eyes moved to the Iron Throne occupied by a dark-haired woman, obviously the Princess Regent, Elia Martell of Sunspear, mother to King Aegon VI. A thin and frail woman, Robert and the others had sneered. What does that mean when he believes himself to be thinner than she is? Or that her pallor is less sickly looking than his? What does it matter if she is a woman if her judgment while she sits upright in that monstrous metal seat is far from faulty? Robert said plenty, but, what mattered most was that she no Aerys and now Stannis sees it first hand.
He does not know how long he stood listening as she presided over petty complaints and punished various criminals in the name of the king she gave birth to. Was the way she heard each argument and refrains from burning men alive and instead sentences them to fines, the gaol in the Black Cells, or the Night's Watch something of a comfort? As far as Stannis could gather, there was little discontent in the faces of the audience. Had Robert and the rest of them agreed to this arrangement because most of what she did mirrored what they would have done in the same circumstances? Did they let her have the chair because she was careful so that no one could find something true to rail against? He chances a look at her brother. Or was this a just a show for his benefit?
So lost in the possibilities, he flinched recognizing the audiences were almost finished. They had been through a war; the former King and his silver heir were dead; former rebel lords, even if not entirely happy, were moderately satisfied enough to retake their posts as subjects of the crown; and, things are moving along. Today, it means he will meet with Elia Martell and is closer to working with those who had been his enemies not one moon's turn ago. Did the fault lie with him that he seems only one unnerved by this?
He catches movement in his periphery. Since he arrived, more than once, he caught others staring. A Baratheon and a Martell standing together was, no doubt, an unusual sight, but, he could have done without the whispers and glares directed towards the regalia of his house he wore. If this was what Robert had to contend with, was it any wonder his brother wanted to be gone from this place?
Prince Oberyn leads him to meeting chambers of the Small Council. Stannis hears a woman's voice, "Lord Commander, I will see you in two hours time."
Another voice, likely Lord Commander Hightower's, followed, "Yes, my Princess."
Moments later the man stops in front of them. Prince Oberyn speaks, "Lord Commander, may I present, Lord Stannis Baratheon of Storm's End."
Ser Gerold starts, "My Prince. My lord," A pause, "welcome to King's Landing." As he expected, there was no welcome in the man's voice, just mistrust. "If you would excuse me, I have duties to see to."
They let him go and continue on into the room. Ser Jaime Lannister spots them and straightens his stance.
Elia Martell smiles at her brother, "Thank you, Brother." When looking at him, her face is courteously blank. "Lord Baratheon, welcome. Allow me to introduce", she gestures to Lord Tywin first. "Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock, Hand of the King." Lord Tywin glances at him and nods once tersely. Elia Martell points out "Ser Jaime Lannister, of the Kingsguard." This knight nods, politely, but, Stannis focuses his attention on the knight's father who was now walking towards him.
Stannis stiffens. Lord Tywin's voice is steady, but, cold, "Lord Stannis, once you are settled, I hope to meet with you to discuss specifics about your office." He nods, not understanding, but, the Lord of Casterly Rock turns quickly to Prince Oberyn, "My Prince, if you have a moment I wish to speak with you privately."
The Dornishman glances briefly at his sister and he replies, "Of course, my lord Hand." Ser Jaime looks irritated, but, the expression vanishes as both men leave.
"My lord, please sit." He walks slowly towards the seat she indicated.
"Would you care for some wine, juice, or water?" She gestures to the awaiting pitchers. The returning bannermen spoke of how she kept a well-stocked table. Was there a reason she was bothering with this? "No, thank you."
She smiles. "First, I must apologize I meant to receive you personally; however, I was delayed."
He also heard of Elia Martell's tendency to stand on ceremony. "Yes." He swallows a sigh at her expectant look and Ser Jaime's incredulity.
He elaborates, "Prince Oberyn informed me as I arrived."
She laughs gently. "Yes. I trust your journey was pleasant enough?"
Why would it have been pleasant? "We made good time." Though annoyance builds when she and Ser Jaime share a look, he says nothing.
"Excellent. I trust everything is well at Storm's End?"
Suspicious, his eyes narrow. "Why do you ask?"
"It is only polite." He tenses and even polite, her face starts to stiffen. "Has Lord Robert reached Storm's End? And your youngest brother, Lord Renly?" Her face softens. She ends, "Do they fare well?"
His suspicions about this conversation grow. He replies, "They are well".
"You have just arrived. Perhaps I should have let your rest first."
Why change the subject? "Am I delaying you from keeping that appointment you were speaking of?" Robert would want to know her movements, he decides.
Her lips curl upwards. "No, I have enough time before I visit the orphanage."
He considers that, disappointed almost. "You are patron to an orphanage." Why he is surprised? His lady-mother had done similar things. He is unsure if Lady Stark engaged in charitable works. He smothers his irritation; Robert can think about her. He knew Lyanna Stark was here, but, his thoughts should be with this woman, not her.
She smiles softly, "I am, but, not this orphanage."
This would have confused him had he not remembered other things Robert had said about Elia Martell. "Why visit this one?"
"This one, my good-mother is patron to."
Stannis frowned. Along with the guest gifts from Elia Martell, Robert returned with two chests containing gold. Robert called it Dornish gall. The others were torn between righteousness and bemusement. One chest was for the coffers of Storm's End. The other went to an orphanage in Summerhall. Robert's men spoke of similar chests being delivered to Stoney Sept and near the Trident, both in the Riverlands. It was rumored Ashford in the Reach was the recipient of one. Her giving gold to places which held battles had to have some purpose beyond charity.
"Why go yourself?"
"Perhaps you were not aware my good-mother is still away. I do this in her name." She says it airily; as if there was no ploy behind it.
He counters, "Why in her name and not the King's?"
"I am patron to another." The last smile she gave him had been wider and he berates himself for thinking about her smile as if anyone's mattered.
The knight behind her looks bored. Stannis should not be concerned about the reasons or frequency behind charity, but, he is. "To what end?"
"Charity is one of the duties of a lady. Such things should be handled with the seriousness they deserve."
Her expression is mild, but, he nearly recoils. Goodwill is reason enough for most; not him. Even if patronage is what ladies do, it cannot be so simple. Her words feel wrong. Her talk of duty disturbs him. He was familiar with duty; but, entertaining her family's enemies, the seats on the council, the arrangements to take in her husband's bastard child, went beyond mere duty. Was it desperation? Looking at her, she did not seem desperate. Was this to gain favor? She was mother to the king and acknowledged Regent. What more favor did she need?
Ser Jaime is looking at him oddly. Why? He had the right to question her. The realm could not suffer another tyrant or an incompetent ruler. He could not suffer making another choice as he had once before. "Why do both?"
She sighs. "My obligations are still my own. She is family."
"Your husband's family."
Her lips tighten. "And my children's." Her cold tone was reminiscent of her brother's. "The Dowager Queen was a friend to my lady-mother and always kind me. I have a duty to her and the children she provides for."
He lets the matter drop. It will go nowhere and he is concerned with other things. "Lord Tywin said something about discussing my responsibilities."
She nodded. "These last years, the Small Council had seen many…" She tapers off, flushing slightly, "disruptions. Both I and Lord Tywin decided to meet with all members of the new Small Council before they begin to undertake their responsibilities in full. Though I am learning, Lord Tywin has far more experience with governance. I am familiar with what goes into maintaining a fleet in the general sense, but, not to the extent Lord Tywin is."
Her answer irritates him. He dislikes her reliance on the Lannisters, yet, that she admits to a weakness is not quite uncomfortable. "You wanted to meet with me first."
"Yes."
"Why?"
She blinks; surprise, he thinks. "I wanted to see what you were like."
He stares blankly. "How do you mean?" The knight rolls his eyes and Stannis glares. Did Ser Jaime's presence have more to do with attempting to discomfit him with irreverent behavior than guarding the Princess?
"I had very little first hand knowledge of you", she says. Her words confound him. Again, the knight is of no assistance.
Looking back towards her, "It is by your suggestion that I am here."
Her expression is grave. "Yes."
"If by your own admission, you do not know me, why?"
"A matter of choosing men to be on the King's Small Council cannot be taken lightly. I like to think I have chosen well."
His frown deepens. "And?" Why does she not just tell him what she means? Was this a test of some sort? Did everyone in King's Landing speak in riddles or was this solely for him?
He gets a raised eyebrow. "From what I know you seem capable. But, if you are asking why would I see you, why would I not wish to see those who would be on my son's council?"
He dislikes how she answers his question with another. "Your council, you mean."
"Regencies, by definition, are not permanent." She speaks as though this was a matter of days and not years. He says as much.
Her laughter does not reach her eyes. "One day my son will come of age. Then, I will not need to act in such a capacity."
"You say that as if you do not desire to act as Regent. If so, why embrace the role?" The knight's face turns stormy, but, an odd expression flickers across the woman's face.
She raises her chin. "As his mother, I am merely doing my duty."
Duty. It is always there. "That is not what I meant."
Now she frowns. "Is this a question about my sex? Other women with young children have done no differently. My lady-mother ruled Sunspear in her own right. Why should I not do this? Or do not believe I am capable?"
He narrowed his eyes. He will not be mocked. "One public viewing is not enough judge anything. This is no matter of one holdfast, one tract of land, and not of your sex."
She says, "You will have ample opportunity to see my capabilities."
She leans forward and he fights the urge to shift back. "The purpose of the Small Council is so the ruler does not do so alone or unaided, but, someone must be at the head. With anyone else, they have their own family, their own lands, and their own concerns. King's Landing is my home and where my children belong. My son is too young for the responsibilities which are his by right and so they become mine. There is no other alternative; at least, not one less troublesome."
He balks at the implications of her words. "Do not tell me you are Regent simply because any other alternative is less problematic." The very idea is ludicrous; this entire thing has been an exercise in the ludicrous since the beginning.
Her hands are now folded so tightly together they are almost white and her lips are pressed together while the set of her shoulders he likened to someone preparing themselves for battle. "There have been exceptions, but, outside fostering of children, regents and guardians are usually of the same family as the child. They are also typically men of a certain stature, but, there is precedence for mothers to take charge of responsibilities when the situation requires it. Here, besides myself and my good-mother there are few reasonable alternatives. The eldest of the Targaryen line joined the Night's Watch before either of us was born. My husband's brother is a boy and it is ridiculous to choose a regent who requires a regent. Capable or not, when the King's place is King's Landing, no one will allow my son to be raised with my brothers, when Dorne is their place."
Her expression stiffens further. "Without lending more…" Here, her righteous indignation turns into clipped-toned anxiety, "awkwardness to this business, there is no one else appropriate."
His body tightens with anticipation at her expression. "You and your brothers are my children's next closest kin. Their father died at Lord Robert's hand. No one would consider it a viable option."
Face heated, he jerks out of his chair; his patience gone. The sound of his hands hitting the table echoes loudly. He spits out, "They met in battle and my brother would have never been put into that position had your husband taken liberties not his to take and if the former King" He does not try to restrain him voice, "had not demanded my brother's head." He breathes heavily, his gaze is so firmly on the woman Stannis barely registers how close Ser Jaime is to him.
His rage is mirrored in her face, "I know this, Lord Stannis. I do not excuse what was done or celebrate it." She stops to take a ragged breath. She swallows, takes two more breaths. Even as emotion recedes from her face, she tries and fails for a measured tone, "However unusual this might be or how distasteful he finds this, Lord Robert had his opportunity to object to this arrangement. He did not."
Gall, indeed. His eyes are in the shape of slits. "He did because you made this too good of an opportunity for more than just him".
She looks up at him; her posture is so erect he was sure her bones creaked in protest. "I am not very unique in doing what I must to do for my own." She hesitates and shakes her head. "Put mildly, King Aerys and Prince Rhaegar had done the people of the Stormlands, among many others, great disservice. I will not say I am incapable of making mistakes, but, Lord Robert understands this is the best any of us can manage currently." She sags heavily in her seat.
The knight glares at him. Stannis sits down sharply; his lips curl into a sneer. "And this is some attempt at reparation? You think this erases what was done. If no one else will tell you, Princess Regent, I will. Think nothing of the sort." He will not forget. He cannot.
The silent Kingsguard steps back at the lady's nod. She manages, "It is good that you tell me so".
There is a tremor in her hands as she goes on, "I expect you not remain silent on matters you find fault with Lord Stannis. However, this matter had long since become tiresome. I will not insult your intelligence and tell you your lord-brother and I will be friends or desire it; but, an accord was reached. Decisions stemming from that accord concern more than just us. To change things now will result in confusion and greater unnecessary complications none can afford."
Stannis smothers his words; not his irritation. Robert said similar. If this is what he has to contend with, he wonders if he should remove himself from this situation before dismissing the thought. What happens after would be his responsibility. Someone more kindly disposed to her would accept the position. Not knowing the man's current whereabouts, the living Jon Connington, a man of the Stormlands and a Targaryen loyalist, comes to mind. His teeth began to grind against one another. His inability to do what was expected of him would likely be taken by many, perhaps even Robert, as a sign of incompetence, immaturity, or cowardice.
He squares his shoulders. "Why choose me?"
It is some time before she answers. "I know little of you. What I do is you withstood a siege against a large host. That is worth something. However, my initial motivation relates to the make up of the rest of the council."
He grinds out, "In what way?"
She takes no pains to hide her grimace. "Lord Robert informed you of the other appointments."
He jerks his head in a nod. She continues, "The Westerlands, the Vale, the Reach, and now the Stormlands are now represented."
He muses, "But, not the North."
She smiles and the knight's guffaws fill his ears, even if there was no warmth in either gesture. "That is so, Lord Stannis; however, Lord Stark would not have accepted a position. He has accepted Prince Rhaegar's and Lady Stark's child would reside in King's Landing. I can ask no more when so few Northmen venture this far south usually." He thinks of the fates of Brandon & Rickard Stark, and others.
Grim faced and likewise toned, she continues, "Variety has its advantages. Lord Lannister and Lord Arryn, lords in their own right, provide a wealth of experience and have the benefits of age. Yet, they have their own lands and people to whom they are responsible. Lord Garth and Lord Lomas have less experience in ruling in his own right, but, they are also of a certain age. There is much to say about youth and while you did not see battle, your experiences were forged during a war. I do not discount that."
Her words would have been pretty for anyone else. "You chose me because I am younger than the rest, without other responsibilities, and I am of the Stormlands."
"Yes." He had long since known honesty sweetens nothing.
"Now you have met with me. Has that changed?"
"No." He clenches his jaw at Ser Jaime's amused look.
"Why not?"
Before she answers, her brother enters the chambers once more.
Wearily, she replies, "War makes people think and do things they would have otherwise not. King's Landing could always use men who are not fools."
He recognizes the 'interview' was at an end when she rises. He follows; not quite relieved.
Awkwardly, she starts again, "There is to be a feast tonight in the Great Hall tonight. Is there anything you do not care for?"
He wonders, even as he says, "No"; but, inquires no further. Even if he was familiar with eating items not meant for consumption, he doubts she would serve him such things.
She takes her brother's proffered arm. "Ser Jaime will escort you to your quarters. I am grateful you have given me this time." With nearly identical bows of their heads, the Martells were gone.
Now he understands what Robert meant when he said Elia Martell's motivations were obvious, not entirely objectionable, and entirely aggravating.
"You were in King's Landing when King Aerys died."
At Storm's End he could do nothing but think. Questions nagged at him. Stannis nearly snorts. He will likely just get evasions for his efforts, and more frustrating questions.
Ser Jaime stares at him for a long while. "I am a member of the Kingsguard. King Aerys required that I do not leave the Red Keep, so here I remained. Where else would I be?" Even as he gestured around them almost lazily, the man looked suspicious. "What of it?"
Stannis narrows his eyes. "You were here, but, why were you not with him when he died?"
The knight becomes visibly angry. However, as quickly as it arrived, anger is replaced by a guilt-laden expression and another stretch of silence. When Ser Jaime answers, his words are stilted. He also does not look at him. "I was with the Princess Regent and the children when the King took his last breath."
He is certain he is gaping like a fool. "Why?"
The man will still not look at him. "Lord Stannis, simply, that is what happened."
"Why were you with them and not with the King when your duty was to guard him?"
Now the man turns to him; Stannis would have though it a dangerous expression; except, Stannis saw incredulity. Did the man think no one would ask so long as Aerys was dead? "'Duty', Lord Stannis? After your time with Princess Elia, I would have thought you would have had your fill hearing about duty." He stiffens, and the knight speaks again. "You would speak to me about being less than dutiful when you stood against the king?"
Stannis spat, "I was not sworn to guard him."
He gets a strangled laugh in return. "No you were not, my lord, but, you did owe him your allegiance, did you not? Still, you held up against him and his supporters. But, fear not my lord, I find no fault in you for it; nor does the Princess for that matter." The man smirks.
"My actions do not absolve your failures and I do not need to speak of the Princess." He does not want to talk about Elia Martell. He does not want to talk of choosing to do his duty to his brother rather than to his king; not to this man; or to any other.
Ser Jaime laughs though to Stannis it seemed the man aged before his eyes. "I accept I did not guard the king as I should have. I do not seek to be excused for it; but, a man of the Kingsguard does not only guard the king. That night I guarded King Aerys' good-daughter and his grandchildren. Duty, my lord, like the vows I took, I owe to more than one person. One can fail to uphold one vow trying to uphold another." The man shakes his head and sighs. "Even now, what happened surprises me. No one could have foreseen he would meet his end like he did. I must live with what I have done and did not do. I can. We all must."
Though Ser Jaime's whisper is soft, the knight's tone matches the hard glint of his green eyes. "You will find, my lord, that my resolve to do my duty properly has only strengthened since then." The small twitch of the lips he receives disturbs Stannis even more than the unvoiced threat.
They walk in silence until another man dressed in the white of the Kingsguard comes into view.
Now, to his unease, there is a bright smile fixed on Ser Jaime's face. "Ser Oswell! Allow me to introduce Lord Stannis Baratheon of Storm's End. Lord Baratheon, this is Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. Lord Baratheon just arrived from Storm's End." Stannis has to ponder which one was the act; this now or before, liking neither possibility.
Stannis stiffens when Ser Oswell looks at him. Agitation grows remembering Ser Oswell Whent had been with Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna when they absconded together, along with Ser Arthur Dayne and the Lord Commander. Stannis finds it difficult to fight a frown even as he wonders if this man ever felt conflicted in his duties. The knight breaks the silence, "Ah, welcome to King's Landing, my lord." He flushes slightly. Stannis, not trusting himself to speak, just nods.
Ser Oswell quickly looks away to turn back to the other knight. "You will attend dinner in the Great Hall tonight, Ser Jaime?"
Ser Jaime laughed once more. "Yes, I am, but, certainly you did not seek me out for that alone?"
Despite the man's uneasy expression, Ser Oswell laughs. Stannis thinks the men of the Kingsguard laugh too much and at the wrong things. The knight goes on to say, "No, not at all. The Lord Commander just wanted me to let you know that you can take the rest of the evening to rest and would be free to wear the colors of your house if you were going to attend. I've just been to see Ser Arthur in the nursery as well."
Ser Jaime smiled, "I see. I will thank the Lord Commander when I see him."
Ser Oswell glanced back at him and frowned. He hesitated before asking Ser Jaime, "Is Ser Barristan still in the Godswood?"
For some reason Ser Jaime looks at him before turning back to the other Kingsguard. "I believe so." Stannis detected an odd note in Ser Jaime's tone that went beyond mere formality or caution in front of a former enemy.
Ser Oswell straightens, looks at him once more, and flushes deeper. Looking pained, Ser Oswell replies, "Well, I see. I will leave you to it." The man walks away at a brisk pace leaving Ser Jaime frowning and him confused.
A deeper sense of wrongness filled him. The exchange was far too odd to leave alone. "Ser Jaime?"
The man, walking once again, keeps his gaze directed forward, "Yes, my lord?" Terse. He knows and dislikes what Stannis will ask.
"If Ser Gerold will be with Princess Elia and Ser Arthur is in the nursery, why would Ser Barristan be in the Godswood?"
He prompts Ser Jaime more sharply when no answer came. "Well?"
"Ser Barristan", still not looking at him, the knight begins, "would be accompanying Lady Stark."
Stannis froze. To say he is at a loss would be an understatement.
"Lady Stark." Hearing this only brings forth what he would rather not think of.
"Yes." The reply is succinct and Ser Jaime still does not look at him.
"Why would she be there?" 'Why is she roaming around in public at all? His lips tighten. Lady Stark was carrying a child not her husband's or even her betrothed's. Why would she resist taking a stroll if it suited her fancy?'
"The Starks do not visit the Sept as they keep the Old Gods. She is the sister of a High Lord and a guest of this house. As the Princess Regent says, the only prisoners here are those in the Black Cells." Stannis can hear the disapproval in Ser Jaime's whispers. Whether it was for his questioning this or for the lady Stannis did not care. Ser Jaime continued, "Though she does not frequent much of the Red Keep, they are among the areas she does frequent, if she does leave her chambers."
Stannis is unsure if he wants the knight to look in his direction now. "Why is a member of the Kingsguard with her?"
"The child she carries is Prince Rhaegar's." He feels a stab of anger. He did not need to have this explained to him as if he was a child. It is bad enough this situation exists. "Until such time when Lady Stark…" A pause and a cough, "gives birth, it was decided she is to be accompanied by a member of the Kingsguard. Lord Stark usually accompanies her, if that is your concern." Whether her brother joins her is not his concern. The very fact she carries another man's child, doing so willingly and unapologetically, is his concern; especially when Robert has decided he still wants the girl to be his wife and the future lady of Storm's End.
He narrows his eyes. "My brother was aware of this."
"Yes" is the reply.
"The Princess Regent allows this?" It explains some of Robert's grumblings, though there was nothing comforting in the thought.
"It is not my place to question the Princess Regent." Naturally. The knight's voice becomes just as cold as Stannis feels. "Lady Stark is not a prisoner here, but, a lack of care serves no one." The emphasis Ser Jaime puts on the words tell him that the knight has no desire whatsoever to discuss this with him. Had this been about anyone else, Stannis thinks he would have shared the sentiment; yet this was not just any other lady.
He nearly barks out the next question, "Will Lady Stark sup in the Great Hall tonight?"
"I have no reason to think otherwise." Of course.
The rest of the journey to his rooms is silent and uninterrupted. Stannis does not think he could have managed it otherwise.
He looked about the hall once more. Before entering the well-lit room, Stannis thought this meal was going to be difficult to sit through and had been proven correct. Others had been present when he arrived. He had no issue with that; the irritating whispers, similar to those which started in the Throne Room at the sight of him, he did. The best that could be said was how few approached him or expected he engage them in conversation.
He looks at the High Table and his lips pinch together. At the center was Princess Elia Princess speaking to her brother animatedly. The serious Hand of the King was seated other side of her, joined into whatever the siblings had been conversing about every so often. Ser Jaime, seated with his 'brother's' at a nearby table was clad in Kingsguard-white. Remembering the exchange with Ser Oswell, Stannis could not help but wonder if it was a message for him. Still, he had been greeted politely and that was disconcerting enough; but, he supposed the eyes upon them all contributed to it.
He looked back to his own table. Uncle Lomas seemed to find King's Landing and the people in it, enjoyable; a quality Stannis quite thoroughly lacked. Uncle Lomas also met with Elia Martell and to Stannis it sounded as though the meeting proved warmer than his frustrating encounter with her. He knew living in King's Landing would be taxing, but, he could have done Uncle Lomas' ease at the situation.
Earlier in the evening, when the fish course had been brought in, Stannis nearly had taken up a cup of Arbor Gold to calm himself while Uncle Lomas had been pleased when commenting to the table at large the lamprey had been prepared in the fashion favored in the Stormlands. Lord Arryn stiffly contributed, claiming Robert made similar observations though Stannis privately suspected there had been more colorful language to go along with Robert's descriptions. Ethan Glover of Deepwood Motte, the only man of the party which accompanied Brandon Stark to King's Landing King Aerys kept alive, mentioned the Princess Regent took to putting out a table with a variety of dishes from all Westeros with some regularity. Lord Gulian Swann of Stonehelm, who journeyed here with him and Uncle Lomas, looked suitably impressed. Stannis had no doubt thought that had been the purpose.
He glances at the others seated near him. Not knowing many others here he had reason to trust, trusting fewer, and knowing far fewer he even wished to speak to, he agreed to his uncle's request to sit together. He regretted it. After they took their seats, they were joined by the Starks.
Brother and sister had dark hair, grey eyes, and long faces; traditional Stark features, he knew. Both looked at him uncomfortably though Ned Stark had nodded in his direction. Stannis did not know what to say to the man who Robert considered more of a brother than his own and so he said little. He had even less to say to Lady Stark.
Lyanna Stark was pretty enough for Robert, he supposed, but, she was heavy with child. A child not his brother's, his mind once more supplied. When they were introduced she greeted him with some politeness, but, her reaction was forced. When she saw him initially, she stared for a while, giving him that look he received from others many times before. She was comparing him to Robert and she barely could contain her frown. She tried to smile after. It was a broken thing he did not bother to try and return. He doubted he could have returned anything warm. This lady had been the one who disregarded her duty to her family and his, but, who Robert still wanted to marry. He had settled for greeting her with a simple, "my lady" and had almost been grateful the need to speak was eliminated when a singer started his act and dishes started being placed in front of him.
He and Robert fought about many things and that included her. Robert could have set aside the betrothal and no one would have objected, now that everyone knew. Though he was accustomed to disappointment, he had been dismayed when his brother remained firm and the rest predictably wilted for Robert as most are want to do. He had been taken aback when the arguments of "she is the sister of a high lord… the Starks are an old family…the Northmen fought along side them" begun. Some others added "at least we know she is fertile…she is pretty" as if that erased the past.
It was difficult seeing how easily Robert and the rest of them chose to willfully forget how those in Storm's End starved and the others of the Stormlands fought and died in the war; the war which started when King Aerys ordered Robert's death, something that would not have occurred had it not been for Robert's ties to her family. Stannis should have expected his brother would do whatever it took to become family with Ned Stark, even when the man's sister blatantly disregarded her duty to him and her own father's wishes. It made nothing less maddening. That she ultimately chose to do the correct thing after did not make things right; not with him.
He sighs. Those at the next able over were still discussing Prince Oberyn's and Lady Cersei Lannister's impending wedding. He had known, but, he had no desire to hear about it; not now. Some, no doubt quite into their cups, had taken to looking between at the stony-faced Lady Stark and himself with not so discreet glances and some smirks; their thoughts obvious. When the excited chatter moved towards the prospect of the bedding ritual Lady Stark's face became ashen; as if she had not remembered such traditions. His mind supplied an angry thought of how she would, no doubt, dread her wedding as if joining his family or being the lady of Storm's End was something to feel despair at. How could he not think such things, when she all but proved it already?
He takes a breath and glance down at his plate and frowns at the remains of the roast boar in front of him. It was perfectly prepared; everything else had been, but, he did not enjoy it. It had been a long while since he could say he enjoyed anything at all, even food he would have enjoyed once. Doubting such a thing would change, he just refrains from sighing once more.
The next morning, Stannis wakes early to send a letter to Storm's End to inform them of his arrival. He supposes Renly would want to hear from him. He also goes to attend the morning audiences in the Throne Room. Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell stood with Elia Martell this time; not Ser Jaime Lannister and the Lord Commander as on the previous day. As he expected, nothing outlandish occurred, yet, his unease at the situation had not settled. He was not sure if it ever would.
In the afternoon, Lord Tywin comes to him with a request, which he knew was not one, to join him in the man's Solar where they, as Elia Martell predicted, discuss the particular of his office. When they are done, the older man promises the appropriate ledgers will be made available to him before the evening is out and that someone will accompany him into the city the next day so he may familiarize himself with it, "if he desires it". He agrees.
That evening, Ser Barristan Selmy comes to him saying Lyanna Stark wanted to see him. Stannis decides to go hoping it does not become a regular occurrence.
With some difficulty, Lady Stark stands when he enters her chambers. "Lord Stannis, welcome", she greeted him.
He returned a direct, "Lady Stark".
She gestures, "Please sit." He does and she does the same.
She opens her mouth and he fervently wishes she does not request they dispel with formalities.
Instead, she says, "You do not like me."
He is shocked silent for a moment at her temerity, but, Stannis had never seen reason in prevaricating or lying before this. He certainly will not start now. "No, I do not."
She looked surprised; more likely because of how plainly he said it, not that he said so. "What have I done to earn your dislike?"
He takes a sharp intake of breath, but, does not soften his glare. "You say that as if you are unaware of how you earned it."
This time she glared at him. He has no desire to engage her in any sort of argument; but, it is not in him to spare anyone's feelings. Perhaps because who this is, it makes this easier.
She sits back down and sighs. Her tone is clipped. "Is it so easy is it for you to pass judgment on me?"
His jaw clenches at her audacity. "It is easy to pass judgment on those who have done wrong; particularly, when they have done wrong to you and yours."
His irritation rises at her now crossed arms. "What wrong have I done you?"
His brows knit together. Can she truly not comprehend the gravity of the situation? Or does she simply choose to ignore it. "You carry a child that is neither your husband's nor betrothed's. I will not lay blame entirely with you about what happened after you made a mockery of your betrothal by absconding with a married man, but, if you cannot see why your actions are wrong, we have nothing more to say to one another, my lady." With that, he readies himself to leave.
Her eyes flash. "What is this truly about, Lord Stannis? I was not the only one who ran away from their obligations and I was not responsible for the Mad King's actions."
His eyes narrow as she spat out the word "obligations" as if it was a curse. "My lady, I did not say you were. I am aware how Prince Rhaegar forgot himself and I will not lay the Mad King's actions on anyone else, but, they are dead. Even if they were not, whatever they had done does not absolve anyone else for failing to do what is required of them and you cannot tell me you have not failed in that way."
She swallows a mouthful of air, but, she straightens in her seat. "Very well, we do not need to speak of the Targaryens." She swallows again, "But, you cannot deny that Robert has a bastard child, have you lectured him about it?"
Robert would like this sort of brashness. "Do not presume to think all of my brother's actions please me or they ever have; because they do not. If you want to play this game we can. He had his child before his betrothal was set. My lady, if you are trying to argue about this being equal, please do not, because it is not. The mother of Robert's child was not married, was not high-born, and Robert never eloped with her to some decrepit tower in the middle of a desert in order to have the child. You cannot say the same."
She laughs and it rankles. "Lord Stannis are you telling me that if I had a child before I was betrothed or if who I had the child with was anyone but the former Crown Prince this would have been more acceptable."
His voice is still low. "Such a situation does not exist, my lady, and it is an exercise in futility to think of what simply is not."
She sighs and sinks back, her hand on her belly and he tenses even more.
"Please just answer the question, Lord Stannis."
Frustrated, he closes his eyes. He decides to answer whatever questions she has to get this done. "No, it would not be more acceptable to me and it is not." He stresses the last.
"This" She points to her belly, "has great importance to you." She asks as if she does not know it should be.
"Even before the war, you were to be my brother's wife. Along side Robert, you will be responsible for the care and education of my younger brother and any children you have together. You are to be lady of Storm's End. You; who have shown such disregard for what that entails. How could such things have no importance? Why is it you expect me, or anyone else, to dismiss it?"
She shakes her head. He stiffens. She has no business looking sad. "You do not know me at all, yet, you are disappointed?"
"'Disappointed', Lady Stark, is not complete enough of a word. You were promised to my brother and by running away from your obligations…" He pauses, breathes, and sharply gestures, "and with this, you could not have been clearer as to what you think of us."
She almost rose again; her face angry this time. "Think of you? You think I did this to insult you?"
"Do you expect me to take your having a child with anyone else not the man you were betrothed to as anything but an insult to both my brother and my house?"
Her face grows paler. "I did not mean to insult your house or Robert. Such a thought never crossed my mind."
He snapped, "No, it did not, did it?"
Her face twisted into anger, "How dare you? I am a Stark of Winterfell."
His eyes narrow. "And I am a Baratheon of Storm's End. You show blatant disregard for vows you promised and lack remorse for it. Why wouldn't I dare?"
Her voice grows an octave louder, harsher, "I was not thinking of Robert-" She breaks off and looks away. He hardly needs it confirmed she was not thinking of Robert. Her actions showed this.
"I did not mean to insult anyone, I just…" She pauses and laughs. It sounds cracked to his ears. "If you had been in Robert's position, you would have broken the betrothal."
"Yes." There is no doubt in his mind he would have.
"But, Robert has not." He does not like the possibilities of what that tone was supposed to imply.
"He did not." Much to his consternation, his brother did no such thing.
She says, "You are not like him."
He has heard the assessment on plenty of occasions and it has been that way since they were children. "No, I am not." What did that have to do with anything?
"But you are capable of anger just like him." What did that mean? Sounding pained, she says, "You should have seen him the first time he saw me when I was brought here from Dorne. He was so angry."
He nearly scoffs, irritation rising once more. Any man would be angry. They went to war to avenge the atrocities done to her family and she had not been abducted, but, went willingly. Did she expect Robert, let alone anyone else, would be pleased to discover this? "Why should he not have been angry?"
She counters, "He was not angry enough to break the betrothal. At first he did not even want to believe that I went willingly."
"He loves you." He does not bother trying to hide the disdain in his voice. But, was it for Robert or her, Stannis did not know. Likely, it was for both. He goes on, "Why would anyone want to believe their betrothed could dishonor them this way?
"Dishonor?" She bites her lip and she turns it into a mockery of a smile. "He loves me." She says it as if she does not believe it and he can feel his body stiffen more in anger.
He tells himself to keep his voice low. He feels he might start shouting otherwise. "The former king wanted his head because of the love he bears for you and your family. He fought with your brother to get you back. He still wants to marry you, even though he could have set the betrothal aside. Anyone else who found their betrothed carrying another man's child would have, yet, he did not. What other proof do you need?"
"I do not need any other proof." She looks away. "You do not like that Robert still desires marriage to me."
"As I have said, I do not."
"And your bannermen seem to have no issue. Lord Lomas had been nothing but kind." She accuses as though that should somehow relate to what he thinks or does.
They are more concerned with what she is, not what she has done. Why would they object much when Robert does not? If they had any objections, remembering the previous night, some would enjoy having her to speak about.
"The opinions of very few others are of a concern for me."
"But, yours is less than favorable, yet, you accept that the marriage will go forward." She does not have the right to sound almost resigned.
His tone is clipped, "Of course I do. Robert is my elder brother. He is also my liege-lord. I have a duty to abide by his wishes."
She sounds incredulous. "You would see your brother marry a woman you do not like because of your duty."
With great difficulty, he fights to keep his face neutral. He doubts he managed it. Of course she would consider duty of little to no consequence. "I understand my duty. Even if I do find something to dislike, it does not negate what I must do. During the war, I could have chosen to side with those loyal to the Targaryen cause; after all, I have a duty to King. But, I chose my brother and my duty to him because he is my brother and my liege-lord. Can you fathom what having to make that choice meant? Do you have any idea what this war has cost? What I did during the war; what I have seen?" What did she know of what it was like to be a traitor knowing that he would have been one, in one way or another? No, she merely would choose to run away from such choices.
Her chin lifts. Her voice is as cold and bitter as his had been frustrated, "How can you blame me for war. I was not the one responsible and do not speak as though this war had cost me my family."
He swallows. He refrains from voicing how brother and father would not have been in this city to suffer what King Aerys had done to them had it not been for her part in all of this. Still, his next words are no less true. "I assure you, my thoughts are most unkind with respect to King Aerys and Prince Rhaegar, but, what can the ashes of dead men can give me, if any justification can be? Still, they were not my brother's betrothed even if there are ties of blood which had bound us."
For a moment she looks confused. She repeats the words "blood ties" as if she did not understand what he was referring to. Annoyed, he speaks through gritted teeth, "My father was King Aerys' cousin. Prince Rhaegar still eloped with you. It had not stopped King Aerys from demanding my brother's head. I know what they have done, but, I am still here."
A look of awareness passes over her face, but, it is gone in the next moment; replaced by a look of something he cannot decipher and a deep sigh. She asks, "I suppose you do not want to know my reasons."
He grimaces. "No. I do not need to know yours any more than I need to know theirs. Did my brother ask?" Robert, certainly, had said nothing to him even if he had. After their argument Robert rarely talked of Lyanna Stark in his presence.
When looks at him, her hand is once again at her belly. "Robert wants to pretend none of it happened. He hates that I have a child, especially because it is Rhae-Prince Rhaegar's."
He catches the way she almost said Prince Rhaegar's name so informally and stiffens. "Any man would hate for their betrothed to be carrying another man's child."
She looks away. "Why does it matter when Robert does not have to see my child in his household?"
Was the prospect of that supposed to please him? "The child would still exist." Even if Robert never sets eyes on the child, Stannis is the one who will have to see the child because Elia Martell offered to raise her husband's child here with her own.
She strikes, "You will not harm my child."
Enraged, he takes a breath; then another. He still sneers, "My lady, however lowly you might think of my brothers and I, we mean to keep our word. What is to be done with your child has already been decided and I have no reason to interfere with that. Such a ghastly thing would bring dishonor to my family and me."
She looks stricken at that and a heavy silence fills the room. Eventually Stannis decides he had been here long enough and gets up to leave. He was positive they would be speaking in circles otherwise and the words cause more trouble than he needs. However, before he could, she raises a hand and stops him, "Lord Stannis."
"Yes?"
"Why I went with Prince Rhaegar truly does not matter to you, does it?"
He sighs. He is tired of this. "No, it does not." Knowing why will not change anything and he doubts any explanation she can give will make him think better of her.
Apparently, she comes to the same conclusion. "I thought as much. But, I do not suppose it matters, now that the wedding is to go forward."
"It will go forward." After everything, he knows it is better to be sure.
Her face twists into anger her face for a moment, but, then she leans back into her seat and nods. "Lord Stannis, I doubt you would believe me, but, I did not mean for any of this to happen; not this way."
She sounds earnest, yet, intent changes nothing. Any sort of apology she could make would not, either; she offered none nor would find she had to do so. He supposes she and Robert share that quality, at least. He nods and turns to leave once more. This time she does not stop him.
That night, like the night before, he does not sleep easy.
